Catching the CEO (Billionaire's Second Chance)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
About the Author
Discover more category romance titles from Entangled Indulgence… Beauty and the Greek Billionaire
The Millionaire’s Revenge Contract
The Penthouse Pact
69 Million Things I Hate About You
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Victoria Davies. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 105, PMB 159
Fort Collins, CO 80525
rights@entangledpublishing.com
Indulgence is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Candace Havens
Cover design by Bree Archer
Cover photography by
PeopleImages/GettyImages
Sean Pavone/Shutterstock
ISBN 978-1-64063-758-0
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition February 2019
Dear Reader,
Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.
xoxo
Liz Pelletier, Publisher
To my incredible sister who has always been a constant source of love and inspiration to me.
Chapter One
Caitlyn didn’t believe in mistakes.
She held the reins of a booming company. She made decisions that impacted hundreds of jobs and millions of dollars. “Regret” wasn’t a word in her vocabulary.
Which was why her snap decision to hide through the first door she could find was not a mistake.
It’s a strategic consideration.
She eyed the mop in front of her and the stepstool precariously balanced on a long-forgotten, dust-covered box. The tiny broom closet wasn’t exactly the escape route she’d envisioned.
How long do I have to stay in here?
She pressed her hands to her warm cheeks, squeezing her eyes shut. Never in her life had she run from a fight. But here she was, exploring hotel rooms guests usually didn’t notice, all because she’d caught sight of the last man she wanted to see.
“What’s he doing here?”
The sound of her own whispered voice released some of the tension in her shoulders. She’d come to Washington, DC, for some R&R. The corporate conference was supposed to be her chance to recharge, get reinspired. She was meant to return to her company with new plans to trounce the competition.
Clearly, she hadn’t been the only one with that idea.
Not that Damien Reid had ever deigned to attend one of these professional development retreats before.
Closing her eyes, she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Of all the CEOs in her industry, why did it have to be him? Why did the one man she could never best have to be here? For the past few years, she’d been chasing after Boston’s golden boy. He was always one step ahead of her. One contract out of reach. One miracle breakthrough pushed to market before she could counter. No matter what she did, she could never win against him.
And the damned man knew it.
She still remembered walking into her office one morning to see a bouquet of roses on her desk. The note had been simple. Better luck next time.
That’s when she’d learned she’d lost her head of research to his company.
Her fists clenched. The knowledge that he’d outplayed her still stung.
She’d retaliated by stealing his accounting director, but they both knew the loss hadn’t been the same.
No, with all his billions and his charm, Damien could afford to run circles around her. Meanwhile, she had to hang on by her fingernails and grit her teeth, trying to play on uneven ground.
It’s a big conference. What are the odds our paths will cross?
The adrenaline in her veins started to subside. Thousands of people were wandering these halls. He’d never notice her in the melee.
Do what you came here to do. Learn. Plan. And take him down later.
Whatever happened, she just had to avoid him. How hard could it be?
Her heart rate had just returned to normal when a sharp knock startled her. She whirled to face the closed door. Surely fate wouldn’t be so cruel.
“How long are you planning to stay in there?”
Her stomach dropped at the smooth, crisp voice. One she knew all too well.
Glancing around the broom closet, she grabbed a few loose bottles of the complimentary shampoo and rolled back her shoulders.
He was not going to intimidate her. Not this time.
Prepared for battle, she opened the door.
“Hey, Caitlyn. Couldn’t Brooks Corp spring for a better room?” Damien asked.
As always, the sight of him caused her breath to hitch. Did he have to be so inconveniently attractive? Towering over her own modest five feet, six inches, he looked down at her with gray eyes that sparkled with amusement. At her expense, of course.
Black hair tousled around his face in a way her fingers just itched to brush back. And then there was that face. One that haunted her dreams. Or rather, nightmares. Chiseled cheekbones, a strong jaw, and full lips any woman would envy.
Kissable lips.
If only they belonged to anyone but him.
His designer suit fit him to perfection, barely containing the honed body that lay beneath. It was just doubly unfair that he could look like he stepped out of some girl’s fantasy while she made it to the gym twice a month if she was lucky.
I’ve got a company to run.
She ignored the fact that he did, too.
“Damien,” she said, keeping her voice cool. “You must be in the wrong place. Run before someone mistakes you for being interested in self-improvement and drags you into a workshop.”
A grin split his face as he leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms. “You mean this isn’t the scotch and sports conference? I’m devastated.”
“Must have been last week.”
“That explains it.” His gaze traveled over her slowly. “Might as well stay at this point, though.”
“You’ve never come to one of these events before.”
He shrugged. “And that means I’m banned for life?”
“People are here to learn.”
“Maybe I am, too.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’d believe a hell of a lot before I’d believe that.”
“Please. I’ve known men like you my whole life. Silver-spooned charmers willing to rip apart livelihoods with a smile if it moved your stock price up a few points.”
“As opposed to you, a CEO beyond reproach.”
She stiffened. “I think we should probably stay out of each other’s way this week.”
“Seems easy enough. I’ll make sure to avoid all the broom closets.”
Her jaw clenched. “I needed some extra shampoo,” she said, showing him the miniature bottles in her hand.
A touch of warmth returned to his gaze as he glanced at her “proof.” “Prepare to have your mind blown. They’ll bring those to your room if you ask.”
“No need to take up someone’s time,” she said, lifting her chin. “I can take care of myself.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised.”
“Going to let me out?”
He seemed to consider her words before another slow smile crossed his lips. “You might cause me less grief if I locked you in here this week.”
“Please do. I’ll enjoy suing you when I get out.”
With a laugh, he stepped back out of the doorway.
Pretending she wasn’t affected by him at all, she sailed from the closet and pulled the door shut behind her.
“Enjoy the conference,” she said, wishing she could tell him to go to hell instead. Moving around him, she headed down the hall.
Only to find him keeping step with her.
“Stalking me?” she demanded.
“The elevators are this way. Don’t tell me my presence bothers you?”
“Not at all,” she lied.
It’s not like the elevators are far away. Just ignore him.
“You know,” he said as they walked, “we’re in the same industry with the same goals. We might have overlapping seminars over the next few days. Just saying.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
“I doubt it.”
“Worried about spending time with me? My charm is legendary.”
“Just like your humility.”
“Where’s the fun in being humble? I take pride in my accomplishments just as you should. Like that ad campaign you ran last quarter for your new arthritis drug. Very clever.”
Warmth spread through her chest before she sternly tromped it down. “Thank you,” she said, trying not to let her surprise at the unexpected compliment show.
“I thought stealing your research head would slow you down, but Brooks Corp keeps nipping at my heels. It’s getting annoying.”
She fought the urge to stick out her tongue. “Perhaps you’re just slipping.”
“Impossible,” he replied, utter confidence in his tone.
What would it be like, not to worry at night over the fate of your company?
It certainly wasn’t a luxury she’d ever had. Her company would never be as big or as powerful as his. After all, he controlled an empire that had a legacy spanning generations. Hers, on the other hand, had been started by her father.
“What can I say?” she asked, keeping her voice light. “My company is just that good.”
He tossed her a grin. “The year’s not over yet, cupcake.”
The name brought a scowl to her face. “Don’t call me that.”
He chuckled by her side. “I’ll never forget the sight of you at that benefit. We’d crossed paths a few times, of course, but that was the first night I ever really saw you in your element.”
She remembered the night he meant. It’d been a small networking event that she’d attended to try and drum up some new business contacts. She hadn’t expected much to come out of it. Certainly, she’d never thought that night would haunt the rest of her career.
“You stood there, a cupcake in one hand and a business folder in the other, talking so animatedly some of the icing flew off and hit that grouchy investor from Vienna.”
She groaned. “There was a dessert table, and I’m a sucker for French vanilla. Besides, that was years ago. Can’t you stop torturing me?”
Those piercing gray eyes met hers. “Never.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Not that she acknowledged it.
Reaching the elevators, she punched the up button with a little too much force. Silence stretched between them as they waited. Silence that Damien broke in the last way she was expecting.
“You could meet me for dinner tonight.”
She was glad her back was to him when she heard the soft invitation.
What’s his game?
Schooling her expression, she turned to him. “Why?”
His smile took on a self-deprecating edge. “Because I’m so irresistible you can’t help yourself?”
“Nope. Try again.”
He shrugged. “It was just a thought. We’re trapped at this conference for the next week. Where’s the harm in calling a truce?”
She arched a brow. “Not interested.”
“Fair enough,” he replied. “You probably wouldn’t know how to do anything but fight anyways.”
“Like you don’t enjoy yanking my chain,” she gritted out.
His laugh rolled over her, sending a shiver down her spine. “I admit, the pastime has its benefits.”
She narrowed her eyes as the elevator arrived. Glad that she’d be able to escape him soon, she stepped into the small space. “What’s your floor?”
“Twelve.”
Of course it is.
She pushed the button and stepped back.
“You too?” he asked, tilting his head.
“They probably booked off a conference block of rooms on the same floor. It’s coincidence.”
“And here I was hoping you were following me. Trying to steal all my secrets, hmm?”
“As if I have any use for your tired, old ideas.”
“Those ideas left you in the dust last year.”
As if she needed reminding.
He leaned against the back of the elevator, his arms outstretched on the rail that lined the wall. “If you ask real nice, I might go easy on you this quarter.”
“Bite me, Reid.”
A slow smile curved his lips. “Only if you beg me just right, cupcake.”
She sent up a silent prayer of thanks when the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors rolled open. Escaping into the hall, she didn’t bother to say goodbye as she headed for her room. But the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, signaling she hadn’t lost him yet.
“Go away,” she said.
“Can’t,” he said cheerfully. “My room is down the hall.”
Just like hers.
The universe has it in for me.
It was the only explanation.
With each step down the hall, her anxiety grew. The number of rooms decreased as they got closer and closer to her own.
He can’t be near me. There’s coincidence and then there’s just plain hellish bad luck.
“Mine’s on the left,” he whispered into her ear from behind. “In case you happen to need anything. In the middle of the night, say.”
She gritted her teeth. “I’m on the right. If you happen to need anything, go ask the concierge.”
He was still chuckling as she swiped her key card and escaped into her own room. But she couldn’t resist glancing back at him as the door started to close. He was watching her, his usual smile curling his lips.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the door clicked closed. Hesitating in the entranceway, she gave in and approached the door on silent feet. Looking through the peephole, she watched as Damien fished his own key card out of his pocket and swiped at the door directly opposite her room.
Of course, we’re practically neighbors.
He opened the door and, just as he was about to disappear from sight, turned to wave at her.
She jerked back, embarrassment coursing through her. Did the damned man have to be so good at predicting her moves?
Stalking awa
y from the door, she tossed her purse on the wide king bed in her suite. If it was the last thing she did, she’d find some way to best him.
And when she finally managed to wipe that smile off his face, it would be the sweetest victory of her career.
Chapter Two
Caitlyn Brooks was a problem.
Damien took a sip of his scotch, scanning the reception as he did. The ballroom had been converted into a makeshift bar as conference goers flooded in, eager to mingle before the seminars started tomorrow. He told himself he was only interested in checking out the scene, but that didn’t stop him from looking for a particular head topped with riotous red curls. Of course, she’d be a redhead with a temper like hers. All that energy packed up tight in a curvy little package. Not that he should notice.
Life would be a hell of a lot easier if I didn’t.
Since his goal was to crush her. Brooks Corp had been little more than an annoyance when her father was in charge, but the three years she’d been at the helm had seen a shift in the company. They were gaining steam, and Damien needed to put a stop to it. Unfortunately, his efforts to buy them out had been firmly rejected, the last with a less than amicable meeting. Caitlyn had gotten so angry at his request her porcelain skin had turned nearly the same shade as her hair.
Not that he’d been fascinated to watch the flush inch down her slender throat.
His hand fisted by his side. All he’d wanted was a week away from the rat race. Was that too much to ask? He’d been feeling great when he’d checked in.
Until he’d seen Caitlyn whirl into a closet to escape crossing his path.
He should have walked away. A gentleman would have. Clearly, she wanted to see him as much as he had her.
But instead of walking in the opposite direction, his feet had taken him directly to that broom closet. With every step, anticipation had coursed through him. She was his rival. She hated his guts.
And yet, he wanted to needle her a little. See those green eyes snap at him. What was it about her that made him want to push her buttons?
Keep your mind on the conference, Reid.
The last thing he wanted was to get even more tangled with the feisty CEO of a company he needed to either acquire or destroy.
Even if the sight of her in those sky-high heels had made him think of pleasure rather than the boardroom.